Falling for U
by Subject24
Summary: Harold Bowman has always been able to acheive any intended outcome in life that he sets his mind to. Getting the Job of his dreams. The car, house, clothes, and money of his dreams. But as of recently, it seems that getting his dreams is alot harder than he can hope to acheive... literally. With a reoccuring nightmare that haunts him. How is he ever going to get to sleep?
1. Chapter 1: Harold

Harold Bowman stared at his brawny figure in the mirror of his hotel suite's bathroom. His eyes were red with blood vessels that banked from the farther whites of his eye to the rim of his iris, and he was both perspiring heavily, and visibly shaking. None of the other times had been as bad as this one. He could remember the nightmare as if he had just walked out of it's daytime office.

All his clientele surrounding him in a room of a building still in construction. A skyscraper twelve stories high and in the middle of downtown Seattle. The amount of clientele in the room is steadily growing, all of them yelling numbers and figures from the day's trade pushing him closer and closer to the edge of an open window pain. Harold is yelling at his employees to get a grip but nobody seems to hear him above the clamor.

Just as he tiptoes on the edge of the open face back of the room, a voice calls out to him.

He recognizes it from somewhere but can't place it exactly. And in the split second he tries to recall it in his memory a hand belonging to the voice reaches out through the crowd as if to save him.

Harold hesitates for just a moment before he is thrown off the building by the pushing crowd. He hurdles downward screaming in terror, hits the ground, and almost simultaneously wakes up in his bed, soaked with sweat.

Harold grabbed one of the complimentary glasses from the sink countertop and filled it with water. Drinking it down in one swift swig, he swiped at the faucet handle and filled another.

He had a meeting in the morning, and no amount of coffee was going to restore him to proper condition. Harold hadn't slept more than 20 hours in the past two months. That wasn't good for the 50 hours or so that he put into work every week.

Coming out of the bathroom, he looked around his neatly decorated deluxe suite.In it, a king sized bed with a 55 inch curved Samsung LED smart tv in front of it hanging on an adjustable crane. Harold stared at the king sized bed in Ill Humoured chagrin. A 6 foot by 6 foot bed, softer even than the bed he had at home that was about as useful as a waterproof towel.

Harold sighed to himself and rubbed his forehead. He might as well get some work done if sleeping wasn't an option. Picking up his briefcase from besides he rifled through papers and brought out a portfolio he had recently obtained about a possible business investment. "LoveMeNow" a new dating website that had just sprung up out of San Francisco, California. Numbers and figures for how the company was doing financially and structurally. He would spend a couple hours reviewing this information, decide whether it was a worthy investment or not, and then move on. It was 2'o clock in the morning when he started. It seemed like it was no time at all before the sun's light began to break through the parting of the curtains. He was on his fifth investment prospect by then. Harold set down his newest portfolio and rubbed his forehead again. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was get ready for work, but the sun's appearance meant that that's what time it was.

Harold jumped in and out of the shower letting the water run ice cold so that he could shock himself awake, brushed his teeth, shaved, put on deodorant and some of his expensive Clive Christian "No.1" before dressing himself. He was out the door by seven thirty.

The sun in Santa Barbara was only just starting to to rise into the sky, giving a golden hue to the world as it did. Harold sped down highway 101, in the direction of the downtown office building in which the promotion meeting he was here for was to occur. The rental car he had picked out, a mazzerati, was fast and agile. Different than the car he had at home, but still suitable to get him from A to B in fashionable style. Twenty minutes into his drive he hit the morning traffic. Harold let off a sigh and adjusted his seat to a more comfortable position, he might be here for awhile longer.

Traffic. The fact that people like himself had to deal with it was astounding to him. Harold often wondered why there wasn't a lane available exclusively for people as successful as himself. People have to move for fire trucks, and ambulances, why should top executives be any different? The choices they made probably saved just as many lives as the fire trucks did, monetarily.

Harold Fellings Bowman, That was the name that was printed on his birth certificate 48 years ago. Born to Shanara and Steve Bowman, in a small hospital in Minnesota.

Caucasian, bronze blond hair, blue eyes. natural tan. Harold was a stockbroker with Ultracare investments, and had been with them for 23 years. Ever since he had graduated from New york University in 2011. If you had of asked him back then if he enjoyed what he did, he would tell you "go to hell, and when you get there you'll see me at my desk making phone calls".

He had endured four grueling years as an intern there before he had been hired on as an official employee. Even after he had been hired as a "stockbroker's assistant", he still worked like a dog for 6 more years before he finally started making a decent amount of money. But with a whole lot of hard work and fierce dedication, Harold slowly climbed the Ultracare Investments ladder.

Now he was the supervising broker to over 30 employees, and through his own trading investments made over a million a year.

He started fresh out of college living in a garage apartment with a broken a/c. Now he lived in a 3,000 foot condo in upstate New York. Before he rode the bus to work, or occasionally got rides from friends. Now he had two vehicles both with a window sticker price of well above 100 grand. He was wearing cheap suits from JcPenny when he first joined up with Ultracare. Now his closet was full of Hugo Boss, Tom Ford, Gucci, and Hickey Freeman.

Before he was a the minion, the lackey, spending his days running in circles and jumping through hoops for a fraction of a real paycheck. Now he was the boss, making his own decisions, calling his own shots, and through his own expertise making the money he had always wanted out of life. But money couldn't change traffic, as much as Harold wished it could. He slowly inched closer to downtown Santa Barbara thinking of ways to solve this dream problem he was having.


	2. Chapter 2: 1-800-DC-Mini

Chapter 2: 1-800-D.C.-Mini

The meeting didn't last long. Only an hour and a half of going over numbers and figures for the branch's performance last year, how those numbers should improve this year, and how to go about improving those numbers. Harold took 40 minutes of this hour and a half explaining his own strategies for marketing businesses and giving contacts and leads he knew of in the area. Harold could tell as he was giving his lecture that some of these employees were getting things that they would have never learned without his inside information. Given more time, he could have probably could have made a significant impact on the knowledge base of this branches rookies, but he had to make his speech short and sweet. He was pleased with his performance as he sat down at the end of his speech, and the director of the branch began to close them out. On the way out Harold was ambushed by a gang of rookie brokers that had hung around to ask him questions. Eventually the topic ran into the state of Harold's health.

"you don't look well , are you ok?" Said one of them, a young broker.

Harold was busy organizing papers into his different business portfolios.

"Yeh, i'm alright. I've had a very busy week and it's not gonna end today."

"Well I know you might have alot of things on your plate but you look like you could use a break sir." The employee said with more than a hint of concern.

Another employee chimed in besides the first."I agree with Tom , you don't look well at all."

"During the meeting you looked like you were about to pass out while giving your tips on hopper tech industry, I was wondering whether or not we were going to have to call Ems..."

"Are you sure your ok ?

"I'm fine, i'm not sick or anything i just haven't gotten very much sleep recently." Harold replied alittle more hastily as he gathered his portfolio from the meeting room table.

"Oh wow, well you look terrible" said another. 

"I'm fine!" Harold Said this time making no effort to conceal his irritation. He turned from them, his pulse quickened, his blood vessels were dilated and he could feel a face becoming flushed. "You slackers should be focused on the accounts that I just gave you instead of me! Your numbers were the lowest on the charts last quarter." 

" , we didn't mean any offense" "we were just concerned about your health." 

"we just wanted to make sure that you were alright" one of the employees said in a sentimental voice. 

"Well i just told you three times "I am fine'! I was fine the first time i said i was fine! You guys worry about your own butts before your forced to find employment elsewhere!" 

Harold turned and stormed out of the office leaving the employees to themselves. Down the hall, down the elevator, out to the parking garage, all the way to his Mazzerati rental he fumed in anger. He got into the car and slammed the door behind him.  
"Dammit!" He cursed aloud pounding the steering wheel in frustration.

It wasn't the employees asking him questions, that wasn't the problem. He would have actually appreciated the concern if it had been shown a few weeks ago. It was the fact that Harold had had the problem for so long without finding a solution, that was what bothered him. It was more than just bothering him, the notion of it was unbearable to him. 

His entire life Harold had always been a problem solver. He solved algebra when he was a freshmen in high-school and solved complex finance problems now in his work with ultra-care investments. Throughout his entire life Harold always been able to solve any problem that had presented itself. But this one was breaking him. 

Just then Harold's phone started ringing "Freebird" from inside his pocket. Somebody was calling him. Harold squirmed around in his seat trying to fish out his smartphone from the pocket of his slacks. He silently cursed himself for not taking the time to sync his phone to the cars computer phone. Finally he succeeded in wrestling it out of his pants just before the dial tone ended. "Hello this is Harold." He said, showing no trace of the frustration that he was just feeling. There was a brief pause before a voice came over the phone.

"Hello , My name is Brian Praxt with Tokita technology." 

Harold perused his memory for a company that matched that name, but was coming up with blanks. "Tokita Technology? I'm sorry I've never heard of you guys before, your a new affiliate of Ultra-Care?" 

"Ah no, we're not. We are a Japanese company operating in Tokyo Japan. I was calling in regards to your sleeping problem." 

"My sleeping problem… wha-...how-.. who is this?" Harold demanded. 

"As i said my name is Brian with Tokita Technology. I was referred to you by a . He told us you were having dream related sleep issues and asked for us to give you a call."

Harold was taken back for a second. "Robert? Doctor Robert Flemmings?" 

"yes sir." 

It was true that Harold had asked his Doctor to give him alternative ways to get rid of his insomnia. He had seen him only a few days prior to leaving for Santa Barbara when he dropped by to return some sleeping medication that he was unhappy with and get a new prescription. Turned out that the new prescription was just as bad as the old. Harold called after the first night to complain.

It was tricky thing though with Harold being the health freak he was. He believed strongly in all natural cures, and the principle of pulling your problems out by their roots. Harold asked his doctor to find some method of ridding himself of these nightmares without the use of sleeping pills. Already Harold had been called by numerous therapists recommended by Flemmings. They told them about their methods and Harold promptly thanked them and told them not to call again before hanging up.

But this this person wasn't a therapist, they were calling from a technology company. Harold skipped right to the point of the matter. 

"What exactly are you calling about Brain?" 

"I'm calling to talk to you about my companies revolutionary new product. A device called the DC mini. I think it could be the solution to your sleeping issues." 

"A device that can solve my sleeping issues." 

"Yes, a new treatment method that implements intense dream resolution exercises. It has only recently been Sanctioned, but has already shown to be very effective." 

"What sort of device is it?" 

"Well it's sort of complicated to explain over the phone. But basically It's a type of advanced Beta wave emitter that allows a patient to clearly view their dreams." 

"Really? That sounds like some crap you'd see on a science fiction movie" 

"Well it is science that made this all possible, but I'm happy to say that no part of this device is fiction, It's all real." 

Harold was seriously questioning the integrity of this phone call. "Ok, Brian, even if what your telling me is true and you do have some sort of thing that allows you to watch your own dreams? What sort of benefit does that have for me? How is looking at my dreams going to help me with my Insomnia?"

"Well there's no guarantee that it will help. But there's a good chance it might. We've had experimental dream therapy sessions going on for the past 5 years. Over 100 patients. Of which 96 percent reported a complete satisfaction with their results." 

Harold wasn't buying this at all. And even entertaining the idea that this "DC Mini" existed and worked wouldn't mean that his sleeping problem would be solved by it.

"Well Brian. I appreciate you calling but im not really interested in some crappy technology that just got sanctioned. I'm really tired and i'd like to get back to my hotel so i can take a shower, you have a nice night alright?" 

"Ok sir, you too"

"Ok, Alright. Bye." 

Harold hung up the phone and let off a sigh slumping back into his seat. The parking garage was completely empty apart from a few cars here and there, and a sweeper van that was noisily making its way down the way from where Harold was parked.

A Dream technology that allowed users to view their dreams. As fun as that sounded, the prospect of Harold entering his own dream did not seem very helpful to his situation. But it could be. In Harold's line of work, many businesses that started off seeming silly and far fetched ended up being some of the most successful businesses to date. There was a chance that this machine was just one such example. 

Without thinking about it any further, Harold started his Mazzerati and pulled out of the late nights empty parking garage.


End file.
